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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25019227">Now What Are the Chances of That?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sockablock/pseuds/sockablock'>sockablock</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Critical Role (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Cat Antics as a Plot Device, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Gratuitous Number of Diner Scenes, Hijinks &amp; Shenanigans, Lying To Your Mother, M/M, Platonic Relationships, Strangers to Lovers, Team as Family, Walks On The Beach</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:48:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,663</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25019227</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sockablock/pseuds/sockablock</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Back in the faded pleather seats of their diner, Caleb finished his muffin and brushed the crumbs off his hands. “What other choice do I have, Beauregard? I am in no rush to return to the Empire—”</p><p>“Hear, hear—”</p><p>“—but I have nowhere to live if I remain here. This city is <em>expensive</em>. More expensive than I anticipated.”</p><p>Beau picked up her mug of coffee. “You could stay with Fjord and Caduceus,” she said. “Or you could tell Nott that you aren’t moving out.”</p><p>“But I promised. And more than that, I offered.” He ran a hand through his hair and immediately regretted the decision. It was sticky.</p><p>(or: When Caleb finds a room for rent at a price too good to reject, it brings him into the life of the reclusive Mister Essek Thelyss—and brings Essek into his.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast, The Mighty Nein &amp; Essek Thelyss</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>296</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>668</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Likewise, Mr. Thelyss</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you guys so much for giving this story a shot! The premise is loosely based on that of the show <em>Because This Is My First Life</em>, though subject to a bit of change and a critical role twist.</p><p>Chapter 1: Featuring; An advertisement and a slight change of plans</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“It sounds suspicious,” Beauregard said. “There’s no way. He’s going to steal your organs.”</p><p>“I doubt—”</p><p>“Read my lips: <em>no way</em>.” She folded up a piece of paper and tossed it across the table. “Seriously, at a price like <em>that</em>? There’s gotta be a catch. Or…or there’s some kind of crime.”</p><p>Caleb Widogast tried to look reassuring. He largely failed, but this was normal.</p><p>“Ach,” he said, “is it so hard to believe that just <em>maybe</em>, my luck is turning around?”</p><p>She slowly broke apart a lemon muffin.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>She offered him half, which he glumly accepted.</p><p>The two of them were seated together at a table in the Wayfarer’s Cove, a small diner tucked away on the edge of the piers of Nicodranas. The windows here, though a bit stained, overlooked the Restless Wharf, providing a clear view of tangled docks, bobbing ships, waves rushing up the harbor and sailors, merchants, and deckhands at work. Flocks of seagulls and the occasional migratory albatross swooped in overhead, their cries swelling up along the wordless stream of noise.</p><p>Back in the faded pleather seats of their diner, Caleb finished the muffin and brushed the crumbs off his hands.</p><p>“What other choice do I have, Beauregard? I am in no rush to return to the Empire—”</p><p>“Hear, hear—”</p><p>“—but I have nowhere to live if I remain here. This city is <em>expensive</em>. More expensive than I anticipated.”</p><p>Beau picked up her mug of coffee. “You could stay with Fjord and Caduceus,” she said. “Or you could tell Nott that you <em>aren’t </em>moving out.”</p><p>“But I <em>promised</em>. And more than that, I offered.” He ran a hand through his hair and immediately regretted the decision. It was sticky.</p><p>“Take the offer back,” Beau shrugged. She watched him fumble with a napkin. “Gods know the place is just as much yours as it’s hers. And it’s not so small that four of you couldn’t…well. I guess four <em>is </em>kind of a lot—”</p><p>“And Luc is five years old,” Caleb sighed. “He will be noisy enough for six people.”</p><p>“A Library—”</p><p>“<em>Your </em>library?”</p><p>She gave him a stern look. “I told you, it’s still being established. You’re going to have to wait another six months.”</p><p>He smiled faintly. “It was worth a shot, no? And anyway, I doubt even a Cobalt Library would let some unaccredited stranger stay the night.”</p><p>“It’s shit that you’re doing this, you know that?” She took another sip of coffee. “I mean, it’s <em>nice</em>, but it’s this…this sort of self-sacrificial thing that’s gonna end badly.”</p><p>“Maybe,” he said, in a tone that suggested even “maybe” was too much of an agreement. “Nevertheless, I think it is the right thing to do. Nott has spent so much time separated from her family that she truly deserves this. She was missing them quite a bit anyway, and at least this way she will not be leaving us.”</p><p>Beau’s hard expression eased just a little. “Will she be…<em>okay</em> with them around? You know, in her cond—”</p><p>“She says she’s made arrangements. And anyway, I feel like I am getting closer. It just…will take time. And the sooner I firm up my own living situation, the sooner I can get back to work helping hers.”</p><p>Beau studied his face, and finally relented. “Alright, well…I wish I could help.”</p><p>Caleb stared into his mug. “I do not think I can stay with Fjord and Caduceus,” he said instead. “Their apartment is…very small. And I think they are still saving up to move somewhere else.”</p><p>“Gods, I mean, if Yasha hadn’t moved in with me and Jes after, well, after y’know—”</p><p>Caleb smiled again. This time, it almost reached his eyes. “I will see about this perspective roommate,” he said firmly. “Who knows? Maybe I <em>am </em>getting lucky.”</p><p>— — —</p><p>“—<em>after the tone.</em>”</p><p>Caleb rubbed his face and set down the phone. Filling his room—though doing that wasn’t very hard—were all of his worldly possessions, packed away.</p><p>He smoothed out the flyer, a bit rumpled now from its time shoved in his pockets, and read it over.</p><p>SEEKING: TENANT FOR HOUSE</p><p>One room Available to Rent<br/>$300/Month<br/>Internet Access, On-Site Laundry</p><p>Must be Quiet, Organized,<br/>Willing to Sort Recycling</p><p>NO DOGS</p><p>At least, he mused, scanning the last line, there would be no issue with dogs. And Caleb naturally was a quiet person, very amenable to learning how recycling worked. Beauregard’s accusations from earlier this morning <em>did</em> flit briefly through his mind, but in the face of a rental price <em>that</em> low, any concern of impending doom was promptly, seamlessly, quashed.</p><p>Besides, it wasn’t as if Caleb couldn’t defend himself. A single spool of silver thread went a long way.</p><p>He glanced at the number again, and re-dialed.</p><p>— — —</p><p>“No, Verin, as much as I appreciated your help, I do not think it will be necessary anymore.”</p><p>“<em>Is it because of just the </em>one<em> recommendation? Because if you let me try again</em>—"</p><p>From behind the kitchen counter, his microwave whirring and a coffee mid-pour, a young dark elf with short-cropped hair did his very best to hide a scowl.</p><p>“Verin, your recommendation came back every night at two in the morning and never once locked the door. He also clearly did not understand how to do his chores. <em>And </em>he left hair in the shower.”</p><p>“<em>Ah, but he was quiet, wasn’t he</em>?” This was followed by the sound of something smashing on the other line.</p><p>Essek sighed. His brother was many things—a good friend, a compassionate person, a true confidant—but calm <em>or </em>quiet was not one of them.</p><p>“Perhaps by your standards, Verin. Certainly not mine.”</p><p>Another noise, like someone laughing, then footfalls.</p><p>“<em>You should lower your standards, then! You’re in a foreign city surrounded by strangers, and probably every one with different customs.</em>”</p><p>“I was under the impression that silence was a universal language.”</p><p>“<em>I think that is love. Or, actually, Common</em>—”</p><p>Essek rolled his eyes and glanced at the microwave, which had just finished beeping. Leftovers from last night, re-heated, a delicacy for the preoccupied scholar. He slid over to retrieve it, lowered his phone, and only then did he notice the message across his screen: <em>CALL INCOMING</em>.</p><p>This wasn’t a number he knew, but with a growing sense of dread he noticed that it had already tried to call him twice…</p><p>He abandoned his lunch and pressed the phone to his ear.</p><p>“—<em>but if Undercommon exists, then what does that say about </em>us<em>, really—</em>”</p><p>“Shut up, Verin! Someone’s calling!”</p><p>“<em>It—wait, what</em>?”</p><p>“I’m hanging up! I’ll call you later!”</p><p>“<em>Yes, you’d better! I still haven’t asked you about the—”</em></p><p>Essek ended the call. He took the briefest pause to compose himself, then hit answer.</p><p>“He—”</p><p>“<em>Hal</em>—”</p><p>A pause.</p><p>“I am so—”</p><p>“<em>My apolog</em>—”</p><p>They both stopped.</p><p>Essek began counting to ten. When he hit six, the voice on the other end of the line said:</p><p>“<em>Ah, er, hallo, my name is Caleb Widogast, I am calling in regards to your, ah, your advertisement. Am I speaking to Mr. Essek Thelyss?</em>”</p><p>Essek sat back down. “Yes,” he said smoothly. “I am Essek. You’re interested in the apartment?”</p><p>There was the faint rustle of fabric. “<em>Yes. I am quite interested in renting.</em>”</p><p>There was another pause. At the count of three, Essek gave up and took the initiative. “I am happy to hear that,” he said. “Have you reviewed the fee and the conditions? Do you have any questions?”</p><p>More rustling. This time it sounded like paper. “<em>Er…no, actually. I am happy to agree to your requirements. Er…I do, ah, have…I have a cat—but, but if that is too unwelcome</em>—”</p><p>“No, no,” Essek waved a hand. “A cat is more than fine. There is…yes, there should be space in a corner of the living room for…cat…things. Boxes. And…bowls? Yes, so long as you are amenable to cleaning up after, er, him?”</p><p>“<em>Him</em>,” the voice confirmed. “<em>Frumpkin.</em>”</p><p>“I see, er…charming.” Different customs, Verin had said. “Well, if there are no other issues, I would be happy to begin renting to you as soon as possible. I should mention, though, that while the clauses I stated earlier are the most important to me, I would also like to negotiate a contract with you regarding other details.”</p><p>“<em>Oh, er…of course. What did you have in mind</em>?”</p><p>“Well, they mostly focus on the division of space and…promises to keep? I would like my bedroom and study to remain off-limits, but you are welcome to any common areas you would like. I do not take up much space in the fridge, so if you wish to cook, that is fine, however I also ask you not leave a mess. Smaller details of this nature.”</p><p>“<em>That is completely understandable</em>,” the voice said. “<em>If I am being honest, I believe it will make establishing boundaries and navigating our living situation much more clear-cut.</em>”</p><p>“I am delighted you think so,” Essek said, finding that he actually was. “If that is the case, then…I would be happy to have you move in as soon as possible. Mister…Mr. Widogast, was it?”</p><p>“<em>Ja. And that would be perfect. I, er, when exactly would you be ready to have me arrive</em>?”</p><p>Essek tapped his chin. “Well, I normally do not spend much time in the unit, to be honest. But I was home this morning cleaning up after the last tenant, so the room will be available tonight.”</p><p>“<em>Tonight!” </em>There was a pause, and then a shuffle. “<em>If that is no rush, then tonight is wonderful</em>.”</p><p>“Excellent.” With one hand he nudged the microwave open again and retrieved his lunch. “In that case, I will see you tonight. I look forward to meeting you, Mr. Widogast.”</p><p>Essek heard a chuckle. And then he realized he’d been smiling as well.</p><p>“<em>Likewise, Mr. Thelyss</em>. <em>See you tonight.</em>”</p><p>— — —</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Aw, come <em>on</em>—”</p><p>“<em>No. </em>I mean it.”</p><p>“But <em>why </em>not, Caleb?”</p><p>“She does have a point, you know,” Nott called from her perch atop the car. “We don’t know anything about this guy. He could be dangerous.”</p><p>“He could be a murderer,” said Jester. She was helping Caleb load the very last of his belongings onto the trunk. One last cardboard box joined to two smaller boxes, and a trunk.</p><p>“You will scare him into evicting me if you storm his building like that,” Caleb said. “And anyway, He sounded polite on the phone. I will not be getting a better price.”</p><p>“Luring you in with rent to die for,” Jester nodded.</p><p>He elected to ignore this, and instead turned to Nott. “It is not a bad neighborhood, either. I am sure everything will be fine.”</p><p>“But…are you <em>really </em>sure?” she asked. “I mean…if you need more time to look around, Yeza and Luc won’t be here for two more days.”</p><p>“I know, and thank you,” he said gently, “but I doubt two more days will be necessary.”</p><p>“I feel like I’m kicking you out,” she said wretchedly. “This was your house for as long as it was mine. And you’re my…well, I shouldn’t do this to <em>you</em>—”</p><p>Caleb quickly shook his head. “Do not say that, please, do not. It is more important to me that you and your husband will have a place to be together. <em>Truly </em>together, for once, and with your son.”</p><p>“If the apothecary hadn’t burned down—”</p><p>“But it did,” he said. “And now here we are. Do not worry. Please, do not worry.”</p><p>She met his gaze. “You’ll have to visit,” she said eventually. “Every weekend. And weekdays. At least twice.”</p><p>He nodded immediately. “I will do my best. You have my promise.”</p><p>She hopped down from the roof of the car, a landing so perfect any acrobat would be proud. Three foot four of determined goblin wrapped as much of him as she could into a hug.</p><p>He crouched down and hugged her back. After a moment, Jester joined in for the spirit of things. Her charms jingled and jangled as she moved.</p><p>And eventually, when Caleb was dimly beginning to realize they were blocking the sidewalk—</p><p>“You two, I am not leaving for another hour.” His voice was muffled. He was also feeling a bit warm.</p><p>“That’s nothing,” said Jester.</p><p>“I don’t care,” said Nott. “I’m going to <em>miss </em>you.”</p><p>“I am just a phone call away. Barely a bus ride.”</p><p>“And don’t you forget it.” She finally pulled back, and quickly wiped at her eyes. “You hear me?”</p><p>He smiled. Quite easily. “Loud and clear, Miss the Brave. I do.”</p><p>Jester tapped the side of the car. “Beau says she doesn’t need this ‘til later tonight. We <em>could </em>go out for some food?” Her voice was hopeful. “There’s a really good place that I heard about that does these big milkshakes—”</p><p>Nott elbowed her. “Does it have <em>real </em>food too? Or just sugary drinks?”</p><p>“Oh, they have burgers, and pizza, and fries, and—”</p><p>Nott’s mouth threatened to split her face in two. This was happiness, in goblin form.</p><p>Caleb ruffled her hair. “Let’s do it. I am starving just thinking about it.”</p><p>— — —</p><p>Essek had only just rolled up his sleeves and wiped the condensation from his brow when the phone rang.</p><p>He glanced back, and his eyes lost their glow. The faint sensation of coiling wind faded from the interior of the room. About half a dozen various cleaning implements clattered to the floor.</p><p>Annoyed, he waved a hand and floated his phone over. Then he scowled.</p><p>“Can it wait? I am in the middle of something.”</p><p>“<em>Well, if it is something more pressing than the greatest Dunamantic breakthrough of this century</em>—”</p><p>“Yes, yes, alright,” he responded testily. “What is it?”</p><p>“<em>I believe you will want to see this in person.</em>” This voice was a smooth baritone, lightly accented by something airy, and old. “<em>Besides, it is quite difficult to make progress without our resident expert</em>—”</p><p>Part of Essek wrinkled his nose. The other part, a part that he would not readily acknowledge, nor likely even recognize, puffed out its chest.</p><p>“I…have a prior engagement tonight,” he said, but was already beginning to itch for the study. His mother once said that knowledge was a disease, and right now he could hardly disagree. “How much time will this take?”</p><p>“<em>I believe that is up to you, is it not</em>? <em>It is </em>your <em>artifact</em>—”</p><p>“I am glad you remember.”</p><p>Silence followed, and Essek basked in the little victory. He floated his coat across the room.</p><p>“Give me a moment to get ready and write a message,” he relented. “I will be there soon.”</p><p>He could practically hear the pleased smile without seeing it. “<em>Excellent. I await your arrival</em>.”</p><p><em>Click</em>.</p><p>He sighed again. Of course, he wanted to chalk this up to…to his <em>associate </em>being overly nosy and much too eager to flex his authority, but the fact of the matter was that he very rarely bothered with Essek unless it was important. Which, naturally, had its own problems, but at least it let Essek keep to his own schedule.</p><p>It was just a shame that he would have to miss the arrival of his new tenant. He hoped it wouldn’t set a bad first impression—well, second impression, technically. The first one…already it had been two missed phone calls and a stiff conversation.</p><p>He found a piece of paper and uncapped a pen.</p><p>Then again, he wasn’t here to make a <em>friend</em>, was he? Of course not. He was just being self-sufficient.</p><p><em>Mr. Widogast</em>, he wrote. <em>Unfortunately, I have been called away for an emergency at work…</em></p><p>— — —</p><p>And it was only about twenty minutes later, as he let himself into the Marquis’s guesthouse, that he realized he should probably text his tenant the house code.</p><p>— — —</p><p>“Maybe we should’ve brought him something too,” said Nott, leaning on the side of the car, watching Jester and Caleb lift one last box. An orange tabby cat wound between her legs.</p><p>“<em>Scheisse</em>, I did not think of that,” Caleb blinked. “Er…do you think it is too late to visit a store?”</p><p>“A <em>store</em>?” Jester shook her head. “What are you going to get him, a bag of <em>chips</em>?”</p><p>“Well, er, no, but…perhaps an ice cream…”</p><p>He leaned against the stack of boxes and caught his breath. When he looked back up, there was pity in their eyes.</p><p>“Caleb,” said Nott, “that’s a terrible gift.”</p><p>“What? I…really? I thought…don’t people <em>like </em>them?”</p><p>Jester reached across his luggage and gave him a pat.</p><p>“I got an extra slice of blueberry cheesecake,” she said. “I was <em>going </em>to save it for later, but…I think you should give that to him.”</p><p>“Oh, Jester, I cannot—”</p><p>“<em>Do </em>it,” she insisted. “If you’re not going to let me meet him, then at least I want to help you make a good impression.”</p><p>“Apparently, he is not even home right now.” Caleb gave his phone a gentle shake. “He texted me earlier with the door code and an apology. So unfortunately, you would not be able to see him even if you wanted to.”</p><p>“Part of the trap—”</p><p>“It is <em>not </em>a trap—”</p><p>“Oh, but if he’s not home,” Nott began, and Caleb was instantly worried from her tone, “doesn’t that mean…doesn’t that mean we <em>could </em>go inside? And…take a look around?”</p><p>“Nott—”</p><p>“Oh, oh! But what if it’s a <em>trick</em>!” Jester gasped. “What if it’s a <em>test</em>? To see what Caleb’s like?”</p><p>“Caleb is great at tests,” Nott said. “I’m sure he’ll do fine.”</p><p>“I can only do fine if you two cooperate,” he rubbed his face. “Please, if I do end up staying here long term, I am sure that there will be plenty of opportunities for you to snoop.”</p><p>“Not snoop,” Nott corrected. “Scope him out.”</p><p>“<em>Ja</em>, exactly that. Now…” Caleb glanced at his friends, then looked over his shoulder at the entrance to the apartment complex. It was in a much nicer area of Nicodranas, <em>much </em>nicer than he particularly was used to, though quite a distance from the coast. Tall oak trees draped over the streets, boughs layered in a fine trailing moss, their branches weaving modest shade from the sky. Coral ivy climbed up the side of the building, and from down on street level, looking up, Caleb could count a total of six floors.</p><p>A few of the windows were open, letting in the cool summer breeze.</p><p>Home, Caleb thought. <em>A </em>home, anyway. For now.</p><p>He gave Nott and Jester a smile.</p><p>“Thank you for helping me move, today. I promise I will send you pictures of the inside.”</p><p>“Good!” said Nott. “It’s the <em>least </em>we deserve.”</p><p>“And don’t forget the cake,” Jester added. “Are you sure you’ll be alright lifting everything by yourself?”</p><p>He held up a hand, and waggled his fingers.</p><p>“I think I can find a way to manage. Though I must say, it will not be nearly as fun without you two.”</p><p>— — —</p><p>And now, it was well after sunset.</p><p>Caleb sat in a bedroom that was three times bigger than his last one. Neater, too.</p><p>This Mr. Thelyss must do <em>very </em>well for himself, to afford such a home. After lugging his belongings into the elevator and congratulating Schmidt on a job well done, Caleb had ridden up four floors and punched in the password and had been truly surprised at the size of this housing unit. Thelyss had a full kitchen, complete with bar stools and a counter, and even a small sitting room with a couch and TV. There was a bathroom, with a tub, and Caleb noted the two other doors that were off limits—bedroom and study. There was a section of the sitting room, by the large bay windows, where space for “cat things” had been set aside, and a sliding door beside that area led to a modest balcony. All of the décor was minimal, with only a few paintings adorning the walls, depicting landscapes of some place that Caleb could not recognize. Aside from that, the only concession to personality was a bookshelf stacked to virtually <em>spilling </em>with tomes and novels and hardbound texts. To his surprise, he’d also found he could not read a majority of this writing, though not for trying.</p><p>There had also been a note on the counter. He could read this one. And after he did, he smiled faintly, then wandered into his bedroom, put his things away, and got his cat settled, as instructed.</p><p>Then he gently placed a single slice of blueberry cheesecake next to the note, taking care to make sure that none of the corners got jostled.</p><p>He picked up a pen. He wrote:</p><p>
  <em>Mr. Thelyss—</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I once again thank you for your flexibility. Though I similarly am saddened that we cannot yet meet face-to-face, you have a beautiful home that I will do my utmost part to maintain. Additionally, please accept this gift as a small housewarming token. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Also, Frumpkin is a very well-behaved cat. If you see him when you wake up tomorrow, feel free to give him many pats.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Looking forward to speaking with you,<br/>Caleb Widogast.</em>
</p><p>He read through the note a few more times to make sure that he was covering everything of importance.</p><p>And, when that was settled, he retreated to his bedroom, and flicked off the lights.</p><p>He lay in bed for a few minutes, gently stroking his cat.</p><p>“Well, Frumpkin. Here we are. Home sweet home. For now.”</p><p>Frumpkin meowed back.</p><p>“Well-said. Now, we should probably get some rest, eh?”</p><p>He shifted around, got comfortable, and eventually closed his eyes. How lucky he was to find a place like this, he marveled as he began drifting off to sleep. With such comfortable sheets, as well.</p><p>And all that was left was to finally meet this Essek Thelyss.</p><p>On his chest, Frumpkin began to purr.</p><p>And to hope that they’d both get along.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for reading!! As always, Comments and Kudos are fuel for my soul, and I really hope you enjoyed this exposition-filled chapter. I'm not super-sure how updates will be scheduled, as my work schedule is a bit wonky, but I'm pretty excited about this story and I hope you'll come along for the ride!</p><p>Of course, you can always find me as @sockablock on <a href="https://sockablock.tumblr.com">tumblr</a> or <a href="https://twitter.com/sockablock">twitter</a>, where I post a bunch of smaller drabbles and ficlets in the meantime!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. A Face to the Name</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Featuring: a chatty group, cinnamon rolls, the third housemate, flowers, and a realization</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>TM9 Text BONANZA (version 6)<br/>Today | 8:22AM | 7 Members</p><p><strong>Lady Fancypants: </strong>alright come on!! its been long enough send us pictures!!!!!!<br/><strong>Detective Fluffernutter: </strong>HOW IS IT<br/><strong>Detective Fluffernutter: </strong>is it nice<br/><strong>Detective Fluffernutter: </strong>is it terrible<br/><strong>Lady Fancypants: </strong>cayyyyyyleb are you dead why are you taking so long<br/><strong>Exquisitor Beau: </strong>if he’s not responding hes gotta be dead<br/><strong>Detective Fluffernutter: </strong>oh gods I knew it I knew we never should have let him do this<br/><strong>Mr. Ducey: </strong>maybe he was tired and went to sleep</p><p>Today | 9:34AM | 7 Members</p><p><strong>“Caleb Widogast”: </strong>I was asleep<br/><strong>“Caleb Widogast”: </strong>I will send pictures soon<br/><strong>Exquisitor Beau: </strong>why are you typing like that are you being held prisoner<br/><strong>Detective Fluffernutter: </strong>no he always writes like that<br/><strong>Lady Fancypants: </strong>HURRY UP CALEB!!!<br/><strong>Lady Fancypants: </strong>we’ve been waiting FOREVER<br/><strong>Detective Fluffernutter: </strong>I want to make sure you’re safe<br/><strong>Detective Fluffernutter: </strong>Caleb?<br/><strong>Detective Fluffernutter: </strong>Caleb??<br/><strong>Exquisitor Beau: </strong>he’s dead oh gods<br/><strong>Detective Fluffernutter: </strong>we should storm the building<br/><strong>“Caleb Widogast”: </strong>please do not storm the building</p><p>— — —</p><p>The sun lanced arcs across Caleb’s face as he set his phone down on the nightstand, and yawned.</p><p>He’d gotten used to sleeping in strange places during the last few years of his life, and there was a part of him that missed the coziness of his room back in his and Nott’s apartment. But the other part of him, namely the part comprised of bruises from too-narrow walls—relished in this chance to stretch out a little.</p><p>Eventually, he managed to sit up. The mattress did not dip sullenly with his weight, indicative of its newness and quality.</p><p>He glanced around. The door was closed, though Frumpkin was nowhere to be seen. Then again, mundane cats were already hard enough to confine; as a feline of the fey persuasion, Frumpkin went where Frumpkin pleased.</p><p>Caleb took his sweet time making the bed, adjusting the blinds, peering out the window over quiet streets, before eventually rifling through his cardboard boxes for something proper to wear. He also made a mental note to, at some point, ask Mr. Thelyss how the laundry worked.</p><p>Then he straightened his collar, took a deep breath, and wandered out into the kitchen.</p><p>— — —</p><p>Jester was nose-deep in a box of cinnamon rolls when Beauregard emerged from the shower. Peals of steam curled past the doorframe and dissipated out into the hallway.</p><p>“I thought those were supposed to last us the week,” Beau said when she noticed her roommate snacking. “Didn’t we decide we wouldn’t go back to the bakery until Thursday?”</p><p>“Oh, but <em>Beau</em>,” icing shimmered on the corner of Jester’s mouth. “Beau, they’re just <em>so </em>tasty. I can’t resist.”</p><p>Beauregard pulled the towel off her head and gave her hair one last muss-up. Then she slung herself backwards into a chair and stole some frosting.</p><p>“Fair enough,” she licked a finger. “Just be sure to save something for Yasha when she gets back.”</p><p>“<em>Back</em>?” Jester’s cheerful demeanor vanished. “Oh, <em>no, </em>did she leave <em>again</em>? I thought she was done doing that!”</p><p>“Oh, no she didn’t run off, I think she just went to some errands, or something?” Beau scratched the side of her head. “She mentioned something about seeing a butcher.”</p><p>“Oh.” Jester relaxed. “Well that’s alright, then. Though we don’t really <em>cook </em>much.”</p><p>“Maybe she’s trying something new. It’s better than eating rats all the time, right?”</p><p>Jester gave this due consideration. “I think she only did that once. And then Fjord threw up, so she decided to stop.”</p><p>“Hm,” Beau shrugged. “I guess that’s nice of her. Oh, hey, speaking of stopping, what the hell is up with Caleb? Has he responded? With pictures and actual information?”</p><p>Jester groaned. “He’s being a real <em>butt </em>about it. He’s <em>obviously </em>there, but he isn’t sending us anything <em>good</em>.”</p><p>Beau raised a cinnamon roll. “The bastard.”  </p><p>— — —</p><p>In the light of day, Mr. Thelyss’s kitchen gleamed with tidiness and disuse. In fact, it seemed like only the coffeemaker and microwave ever got any attention from their owner.</p><p>Caleb added another step to his mental moving day to-do-list: find the nearest grocery store and get some cereal. And coffee. And maybe a loaf of bread, if he was feeling extravagant.</p><p>He settled instead for pouring himself a glass of water and vowing that he would at least pick up lunch once he actually ventured outside. He slid into the kitchen, found a neutral-looking glass cup, and filled it up in the sink.</p><p>When he turned, he realized that something was different about the counter.</p><p>The little box of cheesecake was gone. </p><p>So, Caleb thought to himself, this meant that his mystery landlord <em>had </em>come home at some point in the night. And…as his gaze drifted past the kitchen and over to the front door of the apartment…yes, there in the foyer was a pair of shoes and a fine, but thin, black cloak.</p><p>Caleb had never seen anything like it before. It seemed as if the pattern had been designed to almost be worn like some kind of long poncho. Its hem brushed <em>just </em>over the floor.</p><p>What kind of person would wear something like this? The amused thought of <em>vampire </em>briefly flickered through his mind, but he shook it off and chalked it up to spending too much time with Jester.</p><p>And speaking of Jester, he still had a promise to fulfill…</p><p>— — —</p><p>“Fjord, those are <em>ugly</em>.”</p><p>“What? I think they look nice—”</p><p>“Nice won’t cut it! I need something <em>amazing</em>! It’s been months since I’ve last seen Yeza. I have to really blow him away.”</p><p>“Look, what you see is what we’ve got. And anyway, what’s wrong with Delphiniums—”</p><p>Nott was standing on a small turquoise stool that some of the more vertically-challenged customers of the Blooming Grove required to reach the counter. Her finger was swaying dangerously underneath the nose of a long-time friend and even longer-time frenemy, Fjord, currently on register duty.</p><p>All around them, the sweet and mellow scent of dozens upon dozens of coastal flowers twirled and trilled and danced through the air. Large windows set into the pale green walls let in sunlight and a view of the gardens out back.</p><p>“They’re <em>blue</em>!” Nott screeched. “I don’t <em>want </em>blue, Yeza’s going to think I’m not happy to see him!”</p><p>“Everyone likes blue,” Fjord said defensively. “Just look at Jester. She’s practically got a fan club. Fine, fine,” he added, when her expression didn’t change, “I can do you some roses—”</p><p>“Roses are cliché.”</p><p>“They’re a goddamn symbol of love, Nott.”</p><p>She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but I don’t just want a symbol of <em>love</em>, I want a symbol of…of <em>passion. </em>Of <em>devotion</em>. Of <em>l</em>—”</p><p>“Look, just wait a bit, and Caduceus will be back. He’s the one who actually knows the names of all these things,” Fjord sighed. “He’ll be able to tell you if those even <em>are </em>Delphiniums.”</p><p>There was a moment’s pause.</p><p>“How have you managed to keep this job, Fjord?”</p><p>“I don’t <em>have </em>to help you, you know.”</p><p>“Technically, I think you d—"</p><p>And then, their phones buzzed.</p><p>— — —</p><p>Today | 10:16 AM | 7 Members</p><p>“Caleb Widogast” sent a picture.<br/>“Caleb Widogast” sent a picture.<br/>“Caleb Widogast” sent a picture.</p><p><strong>Exquisitor Beau: </strong>oh no WAY you’re lying<br/><strong>Captain Tusktooth: </strong>wow caleb this place is beautiful<br/><strong>Exquisitor Beau: </strong>you’re LYING</p><p>“Caleb Widogast” sent a picture.</p><p><strong>Lady Fancypants: </strong>that’s the worst selfie ive ever seen in my life<br/><strong>Exquisitor Beau: </strong>dude why do you look so upset<br/><strong>“Caleb Widogast”: </strong>what are you talking about I am smiling<br/><strong>Captain Tusktooth: </strong>you call that a SMILE?<br/><strong>Detective Fluffernutter: </strong>wait wait what about your landlord???<br/><strong>Detective Fluffernutter: </strong>what does HE look like???<br/><strong>“Caleb Widogast”: </strong>well<br/><strong>“Caleb Widogast”: </strong>um<br/><strong>Exquisitor Beau: </strong>oh come on don’t tell us you don’t know</p><p>— — —</p><p>Nott glanced back at Fjord.</p><p>“Do you think he doesn’t <em>know</em>?”</p><p>Fjord shrugged. “Let’s just see what he says.”</p><p>Nott groaned. “It’ll probably be <em>hours </em>until we find out.”</p><p>— — —</p><p>Today | 4:29 PM | 7 Members</p><p><strong>Lady Fancypants: </strong>WELL?????<br/><strong>“Caleb Widogast”: </strong>no clue</p><p>— — —</p><p>“He’s going to die tonight, then,” said Beau, kicking off her sneakers. The front door shut behind her with a <em>click</em>. “That’s, like, the first rule to committing a crime. Don’t let them see your face.”</p><p>“<em>I </em>think it’s kind of romantic,” Jester said. Now she was in the living room, sprawled across the couch. “It’s like…a forbidden meeting. Maybe he’ll <em>never </em>find out what Essie looks like. Isn’t that sad?”</p><p>“Essek,” Beau corrected, and set her keys aside. “And I don’t see what’s so sad about that.”</p><p>“Oh, but it <em>is</em>,” Jester lavished in her sigh. “The saddest and loneliest kind of thing. To never see who you’re living with? If you can’t even put a face to the name, you might as well be sharing your house with a ghost.”</p><p>Beau raised an eyebrow. “That’s…a <em>little </em>dramatic, but I see what you mean. Anyway, this is a point against the guy. In my books, that is. And I’m keeping track.”</p><p>“Oh? How many points does he have?”</p><p>Beau joined her on the couch and crossed her arms. “Not many. He’s mysterious, and weird. Those are negatives. Standoffish, if he didn’t even greet Caleb on the first day. And if he <em>isn’t </em>a criminal, and is <em>actually </em>renting out a place that cheap, he must be a total idiot. Or <em>desperate</em>.”</p><p>“For what?” Jester asked.</p><p>She shrugged. “Who knows? The company?”</p><p>— — —</p><p>Essek was, as a matter of fact, quite desperate. Desperate for another five minutes of sleep.</p><p>It was now long after the Mighty Nein had given up on their interrogation, though he was not aware of this. Instead, what was most on his mind was the strange…the odd vibrating right next to his head.</p><p>Blindly, he reached out to slap his alarm. His hand connected, but the noise did not stop.</p><p>Then he realized that it was coming from the <em>other </em>side of the bed.</p><p>He shuffled around to take a peek.</p><p>An eye was staring back at him. Large and blue.</p><p>“<em>What in the name of the L—</em>”</p><p>The cat yawned, and its mouth stretched open to reveal rows of teeth.</p><p>Essek hesitated. He rubbed his face.</p><p>“How did…what is…”</p><p>And then the puzzle pieces slid into place.  </p><p>He racked his brain for the name.</p><p>“F…Fr…Frumpkin?” he guessed.</p><p>The cat yawned again. This time, it followed the gesture up with a <em>mrpf</em>, and unfurled its body. And stretched.</p><p>“Hm,” said Essek. “He did…warn me, but…I am not sure if I approve of you coming in here like this. Without announcement, especially.”</p><p>Frumpkin stared back up at him. He tilted his head and put on his most endearing expression.</p><p>“Well,” Essek relented in the onslaught of this, “at least you don’t seem to be the kind that sheds. Actually…”</p><p>He leaned in as close as he dared, a pair of icy eyes tracking his every movement.</p><p>“…actually, I’m not at all sure what kind of kitty you are. Your ears are…very long. And your markings are…”</p><p>And then Essek realized.</p><p>“A <em>familiar</em>?”</p><p>Frumpkin blinked back at him.</p><p>— — —</p><p>Caleb had found the grocery store on his second try, and had also made note of a bookstore and bus stop on the way there. Now, after a long day of scouting out the neighborhood, he was back in his bedroom again, sorting clothes. No use in holding off, after all, not even if it made him feel slightly strange to be putting all his things away in someone else’s bedroom.</p><p>He picked up a t-shirt and examined the back. STAFF, it read. He had no idea for what. The Broad Barn’s secondhand clothing pile was vague at best and hazardous at worst.</p><p>Another part of Caleb, the part not fully consumed by the current task at hand, registered the faintest sound outside. It was ruled out as being not important.</p><p>Caleb produced another shirt. This one had a picture of a cat on it, red beams of light shooting out from its eyes. This had been a New Dawn present from—surprising to everyone—Yasha.</p><p>It had thus far found a long and happy life as the top half of Caleb’s pajamas. He’d tried to wear it in public once, and been bullied mercilessly by Beauregard.</p><p>On the other side of the room, past the drawers and the bed, was a small folding table that had been set up by Essek, likely as a desk. It was the sort of low contraption that eliminated any possibility of chairs, but it made a lot of sense for apartment living and was sized well enough for sitting on the floor. It was miles above Caleb’s old arrangement, a piece of plywood on a milk crate.</p><p>Right now, this new desk was covered in reams upon reams of notebook paper. Contrary to expectation, however, this paper was not lined with the standard narrow rule of most academic stationary. Instead, a pattern of lines and circles extended out from the center of the page, covering every inch in an odd spiral. Dozens upon dozens of these sheets were strewn about now, with hasty pencil-markings splattered across the page.</p><p>A particularly keen-eyed individual might have noticed that some of the markings were crossed-out. Redoubled, re-arranged, re-placed, or removed.</p><p>A particularly keen-eyed individual with the right kind of background would have noticed immediately that many of these runes were transmutative.</p><p>Back on his side of the bed, Caleb was humming.</p><p>— — —</p><p>When the cat—the <em>familiar</em>, likely a fey one, at that—did not decide to claw Essek’s eyes out, he gingerly picked it up under its forearms and carried it out of his bedroom.</p><p>He entered the living room, and saw that it was empty. The curtains were drawn open, however, and at this point the late-summer sun was just beginning to crest low over the horizon.</p><p>Essek raised an eyebrow at Frumpkin. “So. Where is your master, hm?”</p><p>Frumpkin meowed. It meant absolutely nothing to Essek, but he nodded anyway on principle.</p><p>“I understand that you are…well, from what I think I know about ordinary cats, you might like to wander around. But the same rules that apply to your wizard apply to you as well, okay?”</p><p>He walked Frumpkin into the living room and put him down on the couch.</p><p>“I would appreciate it if you did not enter my bedroom without invitation. The study as well, yes? Meow if you understand.”</p><p>Frumpkin stared at him. Frumpkin opened his mouth. Frumpkin closed it again.</p><p>It was a vague enough gesture that Essek could not tell if this was a response. He sighed.</p><p>“This is why I never bothered with getting one of you, you know. And I’m not even talking about the food bills. Er…<em>do </em>you eat?”</p><p>Frumpkin repeated the gesture. Essek repeated it back at the cat in a burst of childish impulse, then caught himself.</p><p>Gods, talking to Verin yesterday must have put him in an odd mood. And his brother had kept going on and on about life back in Rosohna, about how <em>wonderful it is, Essek</em>, how <em>much Mother misses you, Essek, </em>how <em>I wish you’d visit, Essek</em>—all that nostalgia couldn’t be good for the mind. Especially when unsolicited.</p><p>Still, this did not stop him from checking his messages in the kitchen while he waited for his morning—afternoon—evening—coffee to brew. In the background, Frumpkin rolled over on the sofa. Verin had mentioned <em>something </em>that he’d wanted to talk about, that he’d send over later…</p><p>Essek opened up their conversation. Then he scowled.</p><p>— — —</p><p>A solitary figure stalked through the dimming streets of Nicodranas. She stretched, working out the knots in her back, upper arms, feeling the scabs on her knuckles and their sting.</p><p>She grinned, wide and toothy, in the sunset, before turning a corner to head home.</p><p>— — —</p><p>Caleb had a perfect memory, and never forget anything. As such, the three core tenets of his tenancy in this apartment were virtually scored into his mind.</p><p>Be quiet. Be organized. And do the recycling.</p><p>Now he stood outside the apartment complex. The winding streets formed a gentle little plaza where the neighboring buildings all shared an open space, which included the public recycling cans.</p><p>There hadn’t actually been that much to take out, aside from an empty carton of ramen, a few cat food tins, and some assorted items that Mr. Thelyss must have left behind last night. Still, Caleb had wanted to prove how serious he was about following the Code of Conduct, and so had made the journey downstairs to be a responsible citizen.</p><p>The breeze wound around his ankles. Nearby, a few kids were running around with their mother, and a jogger moseyed past their street. It was a peaceful sight, underscored by the distant call of gulls and a setting sun.</p><p>Caleb had just nudged open the lid of the recycling bin when the shouting began.</p><p>Actually, it was less of a shouting and more of a heated argument, augmented by the harsh syllables of a language that Caleb did not recognize.</p><p>If he had, it would have sounded something like this:</p><p>“—<em>impossible! I refuse. I did not give my permission—</em>”</p><p>“<em>Permission? Why would she need your permission—</em>”</p><p>“<em>Because it is </em>my <em>house! And this is </em>my <em>city</em>—”</p><p>“<em>Your city? Brother, you’ve only been there a few months—</em>”</p><p>“<em>It’s been a year and a half, Verin. A </em>peaceful <em>year and a half, mind.</em>”</p><p>“<em>Really? Well, I am certain it will remain that. And anyway, she’s not even going there for you.</em>”</p><p>“<em>Hah! I have a feeling that she is visiting Nicodranas </em>expressly <em>to do so. The gala is just an excuse for her to come here and poke into everything I’m doing</em>—”</p><p>“<em>Look, look, don’t shout at me. I am just the messenger. If you’re so upset, go and call Mother</em>—”</p><p>Caleb swung the bag into the can. As he closed the lid, his curiosity got the better of him and he found himself surreptitiously scanning the perimeter with the universal creep of eavesdroppers everywhere.</p><p>Quickly, he found the source of the sound. There was a figure standing in front of his building, pacing back and forth underneath the awning, waving one hand around in frustration. The shadows prevented him from getting a better look, but the figure seemed lithe, and very annoyed.</p><p>Caleb would have to slip past him to get back inside.</p><p>Tactically, he pulled out his phone and pretended to be incredibly engrossed with its contents. Luckily, it seemed to work—and out of the corner of his eye he even noticed the figure hastily stepping aside.</p><p>Then, unluckily, the figure followed him.</p><p>Caleb didn’t dare look up. But he could feel the stranger’s presence trail him all the way into the elevator, then settle down next to him as the doors slid shut.</p><p>Caleb went to hit the number four. So did the stranger. Their fingers collided.</p><p>“Ah—"</p><p>“<em>Scheisse, </em>I am sor—”</p><p>And then he stopped.</p><p>Caleb Widogast was decidedly not a man of the world. He’d never left the continent of Wildemount, for instance, nor could he claim to have seen everything it had to offer. But he had fancied himself rather well-read, and believed that he perhaps had experienced more than the average person.</p><p>This was the first time in his life that he’d seen a dark elf.</p><p>He knew that they existed, of course, but in the way that he knew the names of far-off places, as distant trivia irrelevant to his life. He knew, for example, that they were native to Xhorhas, and that many of their societies lived underground. He knew that their closest civilization was ruled by a powerful queen. He also knew that in less-polite circles, some Empire elites still believed them to be backwater savages and monsters.</p><p>This one was wearing a green t-shirt. His hair was a messy sweep to one side.</p><p>“—ry.” He finished, as quickly as he could.</p><p>The dark elf shrugged. His eyes—a pale slate gray—took in Caleb’s appearance, then the number they’d both pressed.</p><p>“I do not recall ever seeing you,” the elf said. His voice was still a little strained, as if something from before—that argument, perhaps—was bothering him immensely.</p><p>“I, ah, I’m new,” Caleb said.</p><p>The elf raised an eyebrow. “I see.”</p><p>Then he turned back around to stare at the door. Caleb was more than happy not to engage. He just hoped he hadn’t stared long enough to offend a potential neighbor.</p><p>The elevator rose three floors. On the fourth one, it stopped.</p><p>He quickly ducked out, sandals pattering on the ground, and it was only once he’d gotten to the door of his apartment and started to punch in the code that he realized the elf was <em>still </em>behind him, still standing there, still annoyed, and so he turned—</p><p>— — —</p><p>“Excuse me,” said Essek tetchily. “Why are you entering my home?”</p><p>The human blinked.</p><p>“Er…this is…where I live.”</p><p>“<em>What</em>? But—”</p><p>For the second time that day, Essek realized.</p><p>“Um,” said Caleb Widogast. “Would your...last name happen to be ‘Thelyss’?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>look. LOOK. there's something to be said about how artfully the original show did the whole "dance around and not know who the roommate is," but im gay and impatient and had a lot of fun writing this chapter!!</p><p>And, if you enjoyed it, please consider leaving comments and kudos! Of course, you can also always find me as @sockablock on <a href="https://sockablock.tumblr.com">tumblr</a> or <a href="https://twitter.com/sockablock">twitter</a>, where I post a bunch of smaller drabbles and ficlets!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Preliminary Framework</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>featuring: a meeting of the minds, job counseling 101, apartment life, the plot gets slightly thicker</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dusk slung its indigo cloak across the sky, painting little wisps of orange clouds that shone in the fading pink light of the sun.</p>
<p>“Would you, er, like some…water?”</p>
<p>“Ah. That…yes. Thank you.”</p>
<p>The tap gurgled.</p>
<p>“I wish I had something better to offer, but it is either, well, this or coffee. And it is late for your k…for you to have coffee, right?”</p>
<p>“Er…I suppose that is true. Would you…I bought some milk this morning, if you would rather drink that?”</p>
<p>“No, thank you.”</p>
<p>“Ah.”</p>
<p>“That was…it is a kind offer, though.”</p>
<p>After what felt like a lifetime of waiting, Essek shut the faucet and turned around with a glass in each hand. He put them on the countertop.</p>
<p>He sat down.</p>
<p>His newest roommate—a <em>human</em>—was fidgeting in his chair. Essek couldn’t help but commiserate with that, and stole another look at the man’s face.</p>
<p>Caleb Widogast was pale, as if life on the coast had done absolutely nothing to color his complexion. His hair was a little shaggy, but impressively red, and the faintest shadow of stubble had begun to siege his chin. He had sharp features—though what Essek didn’t know was that Caleb had actually filled out in recent years—framing a long nose and eyes that shone a piercing blue in the lamplight.</p>
<p>The eyes blinked.</p>
<p>Caleb was staring back at him. “Is everything alright?”</p>
<p>Essek coughed and waved his hand. “Oh, yes, of course, of course. I was distracted by…something. Er…I think I must start by apologizing for how our few interactions have played out so far. The phone call, for one, and just now. I hope you do not think me rude.”</p>
<p>Caleb took a little too long to respond, but he did manage a smile, which eased the mood.</p>
<p>“Perhaps we <em>have </em>gotten off on the wrong foot,” he conceded. “Shall we re-introduce ourselves?”</p>
<p>The corner of Essek’s lip quirked up. Ah, so this was Camaraderie. “Perhaps that would be for the best. I am Essek Thelyss. Just ‘Essek’ will suffice.”</p>
<p>Caleb dipped his head in a greeting that some might have called stiffly formal. Essek regarded this as plainly cordial. “My name is Caleb Widogast,” he returned. “Er…is there anything else you would like to know?”</p>
<p>Seldom-used pieces of Essek’s mind whirred to life. <em>Was </em>there? Were names not enough? What were people supposed to tell each other? What was important? What was too much?”</p>
<p>“Of…course,” he tried. “How…old are you?”</p>
<p>“Thirty-three.”</p>
<p>There was a pause. This time, it was Caleb who had to do the thinking. “How...old are <em>you</em>, Mist—Essek?”</p>
<p>“Ah. I would have to be honest and admit that in exact years…I do not know. I am in my second century, though.”</p>
<p>“<em>Scheisse</em>,” said Caleb, before he could stop himself. “That is—”</p>
<p>“Please. It is nothing for an elf,” though Essek preened a bit regardless. “I know a few souls who date back to bygone eras. Compared to them, I am nowhere near the oldest of my kind.”</p>
<p>“I—” and then Caleb blinked. “Does this mean I am older than you? Relatively speaking.”</p>
<p>Essek chuckled. “In terms of mentality and life experience, rest assured that I am as mature as any adult. More mature, perhaps, depending on the adult.”</p>
<p>“I see,” said Caleb, and Essek was surprised to find an echo of intellectual curiosity in his tone.</p>
<p>He tapped the rim of his glass. “So, are you from this city? Your accent sounds…somewhat familiar, but I cannot place if it is something I have heard in Nicodranas.”</p>
<p>“Oh, no, I am not from here,” Caleb shook his head. “I am, er…originally Dwendalian.”</p>
<p>To his credit, Essek recovered magnificently.</p>
<p>“The, ah, oh,” he said. “The Empire. Yes?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Caleb agreed, “though I have not lived there for some time. I am…how might you say this…not the most <em>patriotic</em> citizen.”</p>
<p>This, at least, Essek understood. “Perhaps we have something in common, then. You may have guessed by now that I am not from Nicodranas either.”</p>
<p>“No?” said Caleb, with an acceptable amount of tact.</p>
<p>“I am Xhorhastian.” And then, after a beat, he added, “I was born and raised in the capital city of the Krynn Dynasty. Rosohna. You might know it as Ghor Dranas, but we prefer our own terms.”</p>
<p>He was admittedly surprised when this elicited a minimal reaction.</p>
<p>“I see,” said Caleb. “I did not know. I have never been there before.”</p>
<p>Essek had to rein in his smirk. “I would be very surprised if you had. Not many outsiders come to visit, and the Dynasty is fond of its secrets. It is perhaps one of the downsides of living there, not much…room for change and new experiences. If it helps, I have not been to your Empire before, either.”</p>
<p>Caleb smiled again. “I may have fondness for my homeland, but you are not missing <em>that </em>much.”</p>
<p>Essek put his glass down. “A lack of patriotism, indeed.”</p>
<p>Caleb laughed. It was a startled, quiet sound, almost surprised by its own existence. Essek found himself with the impression that this man did not laugh much, at least not like this, and then he wondered why.</p>
<p>Later, perhaps, he might wonder why he cared.</p>
<p>His head cocked slightly. “So, what is it that you do, Mr. Widogast? For a living, or—”</p>
<p>“Please,” Caleb quickly said. “If I am to call you Essek, refer to me as Caleb. Ah…sorry for interrupting.”</p>
<p>“Oh, no, it is fine. Caleb,” he tacked on. “And…?”</p>
<p>“Well—” and here, Caleb’s face flushed. He scratched the back of his neck. “These days, I mostly do small magic for hire. Simple spells and enchantments, that sort of thing. A lot of transmutation. I <em>am</em> working on a much bigger project, though that is something a bit…closer to my chest.”</p>
<p>Essek leaned in. It might not have been voluntary. “Really?” he asked. “In that case, am I right in surmising that you are an arcane caster? I met your…furry friend, earlier.”</p>
<p>“My—oh, Frumpkin!” Caleb nodded hurriedly. “Was he—I hope he did not bother you, I told him to stay in the room but, well, he <em>is </em>a cat—”</p>
<p>“He was no bother,” Essek held up a hand. That faint hint of amusement was surfacing again. “He is a charming…fellow. Though I would ask you to at least try to keep him out of my bedroom.”</p>
<p>Caleb closed his eyes. He pinched the bridge of my nose. “My apologies.”</p>
<p>Essek shook his head again. “Please. It will be nice to have a familiar around. At least they are easier to reason with than real cats.”</p>
<p>Caleb opened his mouth. He closed. It seemed like he was trying quite hard to not say something.</p>
<p>When he opened his mouth again, his tone was slightly strained. “You recognized what Frumpkin is. Does that mean you are a wizard as well?”</p>
<p>Essek hesitated. Caleb noticed.</p>
<p>“Ah, <em>bitte</em>—”</p>
<p>“I am.”</p>
<p>A pause.</p>
<p>“Oh. Er…good?”</p>
<p>Now it was Essek’s turn to lean back. “I am…a wizard. From the Kryn Dynasty. Though, as we have established, I left quite some time ago to…to expand my horizons across the world. I am currently…also working on a rather large project in Nicodranas, that I would prefer to keep close to my chest.”</p>
<p>He watched Caleb absorb this information, and…yes, there was a glimmer in his eyes.</p>
<p>“I hope you understand,” Essek continued, “that though I like to think of myself independent from my homeland, there are…some things that I cannot share. There are some secrets, some practices that…perhaps might only be rumor to you, that I would like to keep guarded. You seem a good fellow, but…”</p>
<p>There was a waning hunger in Caleb’s voice as he said, “I understand.”</p>
<p>Essek let his gaze linger. “Good. I am glad.”</p>
<p>Caleb looked away first. He reached for his cup and considered it. “Did you leave Xhorhas to study magic then, Essek? To see and learn from the world?”</p>
<p>“Well.” He huffed. “Something like that. I am certainly here to see what I can learn.” He raised an eyebrow. “Is that also why you left, Mi—Caleb?”</p>
<p>“Actually, I came with some friends,” he swirled his glass, “who were drawn for one reason or another to life by the sea. Two of them are originally from the Concord, and one of them is even Nicodranan.” His grin flickered back. “Her name is Jester. She is…well, she is quite interested in you.”</p>
<p>“Me?” Essek blinked. “But…<em>why</em>?”</p>
<p>“I, ah, told them about your listing. They were rather intrigued by…all of it. That is, they quite wanted to know what sort of person would rent such a nice room for that low a price…”</p>
<p>He trailed off.</p>
<p>“I see,” Essek said. “They must not be the only ones wondering.”</p>
<p>Caleb responded with a small smile. “I would not be looking a gift horse in the mouth by asking, would I?”</p>
<p>Essek found himself grinning back, and the tension from before dissipated.</p>
<p>“I hope not,” he said. “And the answer is that I have had some…slight difficulty finding a good housemate. Money is not <em>so </em>much of a concern for me, given…well, it is not a concern. Rather, I…to be honest, I need assistance in maintaining some aspects of the home. Not in the sense that I want a maid,” he added quickly, “it is just that I frequently have business to attend to elsewhere. I sometimes spend extended periods of time away, and it would give me a peace of mind to have someone here that I trust.”</p>
<p>“I see,” Caleb said. “That does make sense. In that case, I hope I do not let you down.”</p>
<p>“I hope so as well,” Essek chuckled, “because I am quite tired of putting up flyers. Though, to ensure full compatibility, I do believe we should compare notes about our lifestyles. And, perhaps, review our contract?”</p>
<p>“Ah, certainly. I think—”</p>
<p>“One moment.” Essek flicked his wrist and suddenly, with a heavy <em>thud,</em> an enormous ream of paper landed on the counter. He pulled it closer and turned to the first page.</p>
<p>“I find that taking notes and being methodical is best. Don’t you think so as well?”</p>
<p>And silently, privately, he was quite satisfied when Caleb nodded.</p>
<p>“I do. Can I borrow a pen?”</p>
<p>— — —</p>
<p>“You know,” said Caduceus, from the doorway, “Nott was probably just having some fun. I think you’re doing a <em>great </em>job. I really do.”</p>
<p>Fjord spat out his toothpaste and turned the faucet.</p>
<p>“Yes, but you’re biased,” he said through a mouth of foam. “And anyway, even if she is just being…Nott, she <em>does</em> have a point. I don’t know how to do anything.”</p>
<p>Caduceus crossed his arms while Fjord gargled. “Maybe for now, but you’ll get there. You’re still new at this.”</p>
<p>“I <em>am </em>new at this. I think I might have to take over delivery runs, Cad. What happens if a real customer comes in and you’re not there and I can’t answer their questions? I mean, gods, I don’t want to be a liability.”</p>
<p>“I’m sure a real customer would be more understanding.”</p>
<p>“No kidding.” He wiped his face off with a towel. “A real customer wouldn’t leave buttons in our tip jar.”</p>
<p>“She tipped on her card. You were busy giving a speech to her, but I saw.”</p>
<p>“Did she? Oh.” He turned around. “Well…good. But my point still stands. I can’t run things alone. Besides, I’m just a part-timer.”</p>
<p>Caduceus followed him into the living room, where a little teal radio was playing smooth jazz. It was one of the only three stations that the radio ever picked up, but so far neither of them had ever had the heart to replace it.</p>
<p>“You <em>could</em> go full-time,” Cad said, a little haltingly, as Fjord flopped down on the couch. “My aunt is better now, so I don’t have to send as much home. Colton called.”</p>
<p>“Oh. Well, hey, that’s really good to hear. Your family must be pretty happy.”</p>
<p>“They are,” Caduceus sunk into the sofa chair. “I’ll visit them in Midsummer, probably. It’s still a hike to get out to the Savalirwood.”</p>
<p>“You could fly, couldn’t you?”</p>
<p>“No airport.”</p>
<p>“Right. Woods. <em>Right.</em>”</p>
<p>Caduceus gave a small smile. “We’ll get one, maybe. One of these days. But…the offer still stands, you know. We can afford it. And it would be…nice for you.”</p>
<p>Fjord rubbed his eyes. “That’s just the thing, isn’t it? It <em>would </em>be rather nice for me. And it <em>has </em>been nice, you know, extremely nice, working with you in the shop. It’s just that…I’m a rather useless employee. At least I know what I’m <em>doing </em>at the Wayfarer’s.”</p>
<p>“You’ll get better as you practice,” Caduceus said. “If you wanted to…to come by tomorrow, I could show you the new bulbs…”</p>
<p>He trailed off when Fjord shook his head. “I appreciate it, Cad, I really do. But I don’t want to take up your time. And working at the diner isn’t so bad, at least I get free meals and I can still be by the sea. I miss that, you know? And I won’t be a burden for you.”</p>
<p>Caduceus’s tone was low, even as always, so Fjord missed the brief flicker in his eyes. “You’re not a burden. You know which ones are roses.”</p>
<p>“Everyone knows what a rose is,” Fjord snorted. “That’s nothing.”</p>
<p>“And you were right about the delphiniums.”</p>
<p>“Lucky guess.” Then Fjord winced. “Gods, no, that sounds so rude, I…I really do appreciate—”</p>
<p>Caduceus held up his hands. “Just think about it,” he said. “It’s just an offer. It might do you some good.”</p>
<p>Fjord’s shoulders relaxed. He even managed a smile as he reached for the remote.</p>
<p>“Okay. I’ll…think about it.”</p>
<p>Caduceus smiled back. “I hope you will.”</p>
<p>— — —</p>
<p>The front door did not creak anymore, because Beauregard—for all her bluster and brashness—was a very good homeowner. She was proud of the fact that she’d done the hinges herself. Admittedly, she’d used olive oil, but it had worked.</p>
<p>A fruity, pungent smell followed Yasha into the apartment. It was dark. At this time of night, her roommates would be asleep.</p>
<p>Taking care to be as quiet as possible, she nudged the door shut and slid her shoes into the tray.</p>
<p>She stretched. She glanced around.</p>
<p>The faint sound of snoring echoed out from the far hallway. Jester was adamant that she slept like a delicate princess, and this was true granted the fact that princesses also had a head cold. Yasha was never bothered by it, though, and anyway she’d slept under much worse conditions.</p>
<p>She noticed the kitchen table when she moved to put her keys away. She notice that there was still a small plastic container on top of it.</p>
<p>She walked over. She raised the lid. Inside were two pastries so sugary that the glaze shone under the microwave clock.</p>
<p>There was also a note. It read, in plain script:</p>
<p>— — —</p>
<p>“I almost forgot to thank you,” Essek said suddenly.</p>
<p>Caleb blinked. He looked up from their negotiations, mind bloated with clauses, vision swimming with subclauses.</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“The cheesecake,” Essek said. “It, ah…” His expression softened. “It was good.”</p>
<p>— — —</p>
<p>Fjord clicked the TV on. He wasn’t the most observant guy out there, but even he could tell that there was something bugging Cad.</p>
<p>“C’mon,” he said, and patted the sofa. “Let’s watch something together."</p>
<p>— — —</p>
<p>
  <em>Saved these for you. </em>
</p>
<p>— — —</p>
<p>Morning came with very little fanfare, ushering in a new day.</p>
<p>In the comfort of his bedroom—now <em>officially</em> his by way of the densest paperwork in Wildemount—Caleb was distantly aware that this specific morning was important for Nott. So important, in fact, that he had decided to break the first rule of spell work and leave his phone on the floor next to him. She was on her way to the airport now, though, so it would probably be some time before she texted with another update.</p>
<p>He tapped his chin with his pen. He stared at the notes scattered across his desk.</p>
<p>He could feel the formulas aligning, <em>feel </em>them working, could taste the lilt of the rite on his tongue. He hadn’t had a breakthrough like this in months, and every second that went by without progress was another second of wasted potential. He had already told himself that he would have <em>something </em>to put together by the end of the week, at least the preliminary framework and a bare-bones proof of concept. Nott was counting on him, after all, and he wasn’t about to let her down.</p>
<p>In his lap, dozing peacefully, was the reassuring weight of Frumpkin. Occasionally, his fingers would cart through the cat’s fur, stopping to scritch behind Frumpkin’s ears and vibrating when he purred.</p>
<p>“It would be easier if I had a template,” Caleb murmured half-lucidly to no one. “Any decent magical library would have a fixed set of transmutation runes.”</p>
<p>His other hand led the pen across a page.</p>
<p>“Too bad the only decent library for miles is still being put together by Beau. You don’t think the other wizard has any templates, do you, Frumpkin? You don’t think he’d be willing to share, do you?”</p>
<p>There was a faint <em>mrow</em>. Caleb sighed.</p>
<p>“It is not a very open profession. I didn’t even tell him what <em>I’m </em>doing, and I live in his house. For all he knows, I could slip up and cause an explosion in the living room. That would be a violation of Section VI, though.”</p>
<p>He scrawled in a few more runes.</p>
<p>“I cannot help but wonder what <em>he </em>is doing. He mentioned…you did not see anything in his…<em>ach, </em>no, that is intruding.”</p>
<p>There was another meow. Caleb scowled.</p>
<p>“I specifically did <em>not </em>ask. No, do not.”</p>
<p>Frumpkin stretched, jostling the bottom of Caleb’s desk. He sighed. He put his pen down.</p>
<p>“It is a secret. I must respect his wishes. Even if…even if…well, he was hinting, wasn’t he? I am <em>sure </em>he was speaking in circles about Dunamancy. Everyone knows…and, <em>götter, </em>it would be so incredible to learn. But…no. No, he has made his stance clear. I will not ask. And you <em>will not </em>go into his bedroom, okay? Not the study, either. That is Section II.”</p>
<p>Frumpkin looked up at him with baleful eyes.</p>
<p>Caleb tapped his cat on the nose.</p>
<p>“Go back to sleep. I was doing so well before you interrupted me.”</p>
<p>— — —</p>
<p>Today | 10:22AM</p>
<p><strong>Essek: </strong>by the light, verin, do you know what time zones are?<br/><strong>Verin: </strong>well, excuse me for living up to my promises. It’s your fault for losing the invitation<br/><strong>Essek: </strong>I didn’t lose it, I misplaced it.<br/><strong>Verin: </strong>more like threw it away<br/><strong>Essek: </strong>I didn’t think she would make me go, just send the damn thing over so I can go back to bed.<br/><strong>Verin: </strong>yes, yes, alright, and don’t say I never did anything for you<br/><strong>Verin: </strong>by the way, if you aren’t too prickly for it, I have some advice for you<br/><strong>Verin: </strong>advice you’ll WANT to hear<br/><strong>Essek: </strong>I don’t see the invitation yet.<br/><strong>Verin: </strong>I sent it, I sent it, shut up and listen</p>
<p>Verin Thelyss sent a picture.</p>
<p><strong>Essek: </strong>im listening<br/><strong>Verin: </strong>mother’s on the warpath after she heard what you said to Biylan’s daughter, so I’d recommend you bring someone along with you - at least to distract her. otherwise she’ll spend the whole night nagging at you and trying to introduce you to people<br/><strong>Essek: </strong>you can’t be serious<br/><strong>Verin: </strong>you should hear her at tea. it’s all “Essek is over a hundred and twenty and still hasn’t found someone to settle down with”, “Essek is off in a different country and doesn’t even bother to think about me”, “Essek is wasting the best years of his life in a sunny continent with nobody around”<br/><strong>Essek: </strong>yes yes I see the point<br/><strong>Verin: </strong>“Essek won’t even bother to be polite to anyone I send his way”<br/><strong>Essek: </strong>alright, Verin<br/><strong>Verin: </strong>just bring a friend along or something! You can pretend, and it’ll keep her satisfied for long enough, just make sure it’s someone good<br/><strong>Verin: </strong>you do have friends there, right?<br/><strong>Verin: </strong>Essek?<br/><strong>Verin: </strong>Essek???<br/><strong>Verin: </strong>are you ignoring me again?<br/><strong>Verin: </strong>you had better not be ignoring me again</p>
<p>Today | 11:07AM</p>
<p><strong>Verin: </strong>you’re an awful brother</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey gang! sorry it's been so long since the last update, but I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Things are FINALLY shaping up, and I'm really excited about what's coming next!</p>
<p>Of course, you can always find me as @sockablock on <a href="https://sockablock.tumblr.com">tumblr</a> or <a href="https://twitter.com/sockablock">twitter</a>, where I post a bunch of smaller drabbles and ficlets between fic updates!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Just a Parlor Trick</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>FEATURING: the topic of mothers, new things and old, cat-astrophe in the kitchen, a party is proposed</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“—and this is your room! Or it will be, soon, once we get your stuff moved in.”</p><p>A blur of curls flew past Nott and dove headfirst onto the bare mattress. Two-feet-two of little halfling boy sprung up, danced around in a circle, and surveyed his new kingdom by bouncing on the bed.</p><p>It was—as Nott would be the first to admit—pretty bare at the moment. Caleb had already taken all of his belongings, but there hadn’t been that much to begin with. Aside from the bed-now-turned-trampoline, there was just an oak wardrobe, and a rug. The only other fixture of note was the window, framed by thin blue drapes, currently open and letting in the breeze.</p><p>“What do you think, Luc?” Yeza grinned from the doorframe. “How do you like it?”</p><p>“The ocean is <em>so </em>cool!” Luc’s hair flew around in a storm as he jumped. “And the people—there’s so many people, Dad! That big turtle at the restaurant—his back had a pipe in it!”</p><p>Nott felt the ghost of a touch on her arm. When she caught Yeza’s tentative expression, she forced herself to relax into it.</p><p>The illusion had held so far, hadn’t it? And besides, her husband already knew the truth.</p><p>“It’s okay,” she said quietly. “It’s okay. I’m okay.” Then she gave her son a smile. “And what do you think about the house, sweetie? Do you like your room?”</p><p>Luc, mid-air, gave this some thought.</p><p>“It’s smaller than my old room,” he said. “The window is bigger. Can I put my pictures up?”</p><p>There was a box of posters somewhere in the moving van. Apparently, some time in the last three years, Luc had gotten incredibly invested in a semi-popular cartoon series featuring a team of adventurers who solved mysteries in the Marrow Valley. Yeza had told her during one of their rare reunions that the clerk at the store was all but giving them away; something about increasing promotional awareness.</p><p>“Of course you can put your pictures up, Luc.”</p><p>He beamed a freckled, toothy smile.</p><p>“I like it, Mom! Can I put them up now?”</p><p>— — —</p><p>Jester hummed cheerfully to herself as she made her way through the streets of Nicodranas.</p><p>The novelty of such an act was not lost on her, and not just because she’d spent most of her life indoors—the last time she’d hurried down a road like this, it’d been under much less enjoyable circumstances.</p><p>But Jester had more tricks up her sleeves these days, and skipping between street merchants and bustling crowds, weaving through the Opal Archways in the middle of rush hour, she was certain she could hide from any watching eyes.</p><p>She squeezed the picnic basket in her arms, packed tight with the best pastries money could buy. She’d keep an eye out, too, for that little sidewalk café that did the strawberry-mango drinks Momma liked, though Jester suspected that her mother was just feigning enthusiasm to get her to eat more fruit.</p><p>The stoplight above flickered twice and turned green. She looked both ways, then skipped across the street.</p><p>Maybe she should make a stop for sandwiches. And flowers, while she was at it—and over there, a book sale! Now that Jester was finally back home, with the Chateau such an easy walk from her apartment, every weekend she did her best to bring the whole city to her mother’s boudoir.   </p><p>Not that—and here she giggled at the thought—Momma needed any help there.</p><p>The Ruby of the Sea was busy, after all. Just not too busy for her little sapphire.</p><p>— — —</p><p>The thing was, Essek’s mother was busy.</p><p>She was always busy, and with good reason at that; for longer than Essek had even been alive—and how much longer before that, gods knew—Deirta Thelyss had been the Umavi of Den Thelyss, and therefore a permanent and immovable fixture in the intricate political dance of the Kryn Dynasty.</p><p>In another life, perhaps, Essek might have followed in her footsteps and joined her in running the country—though, if she got her way, there was a good chance that he ultimately would. But, as the Dynasty and Empire so far had managed to maintain a tenuous hold on peace, currently there was little need for a person of Essek’s particular talents.</p><p>The irony of that statement occasionally made him want to laugh, though he didn’t much feel like laughing now. It had taken a considerable amount of willpower to even drag him over to his desk, and there he sat with his forehead to the surface, lamenting that going back to bed hadn’t solved his problems.</p><p>Why was Mother bothering to attend the upcoming Clovis Concord Gala? Not a single one of these coastal cities was closely allied with the Dynasty, and the sheer geographical distance between them made the two nations vaguely aware of each other at best. In fact, Essek had chosen Nicodranas <em>specifically </em>because of how little the Bright Queen cared about it.</p><p>Which meant the unavoidable fact of the matter was that Mother was coming just for him.</p><p>The wood of his desk was cold on his head. If she were here now, she’d tell him to sit up.  </p><p>Actually, she’d probably say <em>much </em>more than that. If Verin was telling the truth—and his brother had always been on his side when it came to Mother— fending off another round of her attempts to force him home would only be half the struggle.</p><p>He kicked his chair back and listened to the way his wheels slid across the floor. Distantly, he could just make out some muted shuffling coming from the kitchen, and he had to remind himself that it was probably not a burglar, but Caleb.</p><p>Today was his second day in the apartment, and the man would probably need a few days to settle in. Though, Essek noted with a hint of satisfaction, Caleb seemed like a very efficient person. He’d actually…quite enjoyed their negotiation last night, despite how long it ended up being. For just a few hours his fear of an impending maternal maelstrom had been staved off by the way Widogast sometimes quirked his eyebrow while he was reading, or by the way he’d gently tap the clip of his borrowed pen with his thumb…</p><p>Essek had let him keep it, afterwards. He hadn’t even considered doing otherwise.</p><p>And as that thought crossed his mind, his restful silence was shattered by a crash.</p><p>— — —</p><p>“Knock-knock, Momma!”</p><p>“Ah, Jester! Come in! Close the door behind—oh, bother.”</p><p>This was immediately followed with the sound of air snapping to fill a void, then another minor explosion accented by four scrabbling paws.</p><p>“Nugget! Oh, Nuggy, I’ve missed you so much—”</p><p>Marion Lavore hiked up her skirts and gently side-stepped the slobber on the floor. She made her way back to her chaise lounge just a moment after Jester peeled herself from the dog.</p><p>“He’s getting quite big,” her mother said, artfully removing the exhaustion from her tone. But two decades of living under Momma’s roof gave Jester all the hint that she needed.</p><p>“Oh, I <em>want </em>to take him back, I really do, but the apartment doesn’t <em>let </em>us have dogs.” Jester sank into a plush sofa with Nugget wagging his tail at her heels. He put his head in her lap and drooled.</p><p>“And…your luck with finding a…a new apartment?”</p><p>“We’ve all been busy, Momma,” Jester sighed. “Beau is working <em>all</em> day long to set up a new library by the Quay, and Yasha disappears all the time even though she’s…feeling better now. I think it’ll be a <em>while </em>until everything’s calmed down and we can look.”</p><p>Marion pointedly did not think about the many curtains that Nugget had already eaten in three months.</p><p>“Ah, well. I understand. And how are <em>you</em> doing, my sweet?”</p><p>Jester giggled. “I’m doing good! I’ve been drawing and painting a lot by the sea, and keeping busy with other arts and crafts. Did you know people on the Internet will buy dozens of tiny clay dick statues? The Traveler thought it was <em>very </em>funny.”</p><p>Her mother’s expression was an ocean of calm. “Oh, is that…is that so? Well, I’m glad to hear you’re finding ways to…spend your day.”</p><p>“I brought some to show you!”</p><p>“Oh, how...lovely…”</p><p>“Some <em>paintings</em>, Momma.” Jester set aside the picnic basket and fished around in her knapsack. The bag was a horrifically pink mess of burlap and loud, jangly pins. Jester had to shove aside quite a few rolls of brushes and capped paints as she searched.</p><p>Marion watched her work with interest. “Well, even if you had brought a…the statue, I would—oh, <em>Jester. </em>It’s <em>beautiful</em>!”</p><p>Jester beamed as her mother took the canvas, gingerly like it was—and it <em>was—</em>fine art.</p><p>In her hands, a stunning landscape of the sea beside Nicodranas at dawn, pale pink light glancing off the tide and a thin breath of sun just above the water.</p><p>“It’s for you, Momma!”</p><p>“Oh, Jester, I couldn’t possibly—”</p><p>“<em>Take </em>it.” She laughed. “I have lots more at home, but this one’s my favorite so you should have it.”</p><p>Decades of living with a burgeoning artist had taught Marion not to hug the piece to her chest, though she quite wanted to.</p><p>“I’ll hang it up, then. In a place of honor,” she said seriously. “Maybe heading up the stairs? The light there is lovely, and that way I know the <em>most </em>important people will get to see it.”</p><p>Jester’s smile could have swallowed up the world. “Thanks, Momma.”</p><p>“No, thank <em>you</em>, my sweet. Now, come. What else have you been doing? What’s new and exciting with your…what did you call yourselves? The Mighty Nein?”</p><p>Jester helped her mother lay out a feast’s worth of pastries across the coffee table. Nugget eyed the bounty like a lit fuse until Jester also produced a chewing bone, which he gleefully snapped up and began to gnaw.</p><p>“I wanted to make sure we didn’t have a repeat of last time, so I stopped by a pet store,” she explained, munching on a strawberry tart. “And we’re all doing good! Caleb’s move went well, and Nott’s family just landed.”</p><p>“Oh, that’s wonderful,” her mother said. “You know, it would not have been a problem for them to stay with me. At least while they got settled.”</p><p>“I know, I know, but I think since <em>she </em>already had a place, she wanted them there, you know? And anyway, she said she didn’t want to impose.”</p><p>“Of course,” Marion nodded. “And perhaps the Chateau is…it would be a bit unconventional for a family to stay here, hm?”</p><p>“<em>We </em>did it!”</p><p>“We did, but we are an unconventional family.”</p><p>Jester laughed, then brushed a few crumbs off her skirt. “What have you been doing lately, Momma? Any news? Any <em>interesting </em>clients?” She waggled her eyebrows for emphasis.</p><p>“Well,” her mother smiled faintly, “actually, I…<em>might </em>have something interesting to tell you. I was, ah…well, I was invited to a party. To sing, but also as a guest.”</p><p>“<em>What</em>?!” Jester threw her hands in the air. “Oh, Momma, that’s <em>amazing</em>!”</p><p>“I, ah…might decline.”</p><p>Jester’s elation vanished instantly. “Oh, Momma. Is it…the outside…?”</p><p>Marion shrugged. It was a decidedly unrefined gesture, and left a little crinkle in her robe. “I’m just…well, you know I’ve made a little progress since you got back, but…I don’t know. I’m not sure I’d feel so comfortable being in a place like that alone.”</p><p>Jester reached across the table to pat her mother on the hand. “I understand. It’s probably just a <em>dumb </em>party anyway, I’m sure you won’t be missing much!”</p><p>“It’s…well, it’s the 400<sup>th</sup> Anniversary Gala of the Clovis Concord.”</p><p>“Oh, man.”</p><p>“Tell me about it, dear,” Marion sighed.</p><p>There was a moment’s pause, filled with the sound of thoughtful chewing.</p><p>And then:</p><p>“What if <em>we </em>went with you?”</p><p>Marion blinked twice.</p><p>“I beg your pardon?”</p><p>— — —</p><p>They left Luc in his new bedroom happily slapping tape to the wall. Yeza had been worried that this would damage the paint when they’d eventually have to take down his posters, but Nott reassured him that getting back the safety deposit for this apartment was already a lost cause.</p><p>“There was a…small incident,” she said, as he poured her tea, “involving electricity. And…a mild fire.”</p><p>“Oh, man. Did you guys blow the fuse box or something?”</p><p>Nott debated whether or not exploding a microwave with voltaic bolts fell under that category.</p><p>“Mm, yeah, it was something like that.” She watched him sink into the chair across the table, paying special attention to the way his glasses bounced on his nose.</p><p>He hadn’t needed glasses three years ago. He hadn’t been quite so pale, either.</p><p>“So, how is your friend Caleb?” Yeza asked, tilting his head slightly at her silence. “Is he alright? Settled in and everything?”</p><p>Nott quickly scrounged up her smile. “He is! Actually, his place is <em>really </em>nice. Cheap, too, from what I’ve heard.”</p><p>“Oh, that’s great,” Yeza sipped his tea, leaving a little half-crescent above his lip. “I was worried about him. You told him for me, right? How much I appreciate this?”</p><p>“Of course I did. And <em>I </em>told him plenty that he didn’t have to, but he really insisted, and…well. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t happy that he did.”</p><p>Yeza put a biscuit in her hands. “We’ll send him a fruit basket, then. With pineapples! Heck, I should send one to <em>all </em>of your friends, for pitching in for the plane tickets. They’re really kind.”</p><p>“They <em>are</em> pretty great, aren’t they?” Nott took a bite, coating her tongue with chalky crumbs. “They’ll probably be around at some point—they want to see you and the boy again.”</p><p>“Is the tall one still around? With the pink hair? I liked him.”</p><p>Nott gave a laugh. “I’ll tell him you said that. It’s been quiet these last few days, you know, so it’ll really be great to have the company back. Not that—oh, gods, not that you and Luc aren’t—”</p><p>“I get it, I get it,” Yeza shook his head. “Don’t worry. Like we said over the phone, right? It’ll take…there’ll be an adjustment period.”</p><p>Nott set her mug down on the table. Her smile was a little less firm now.</p><p>“You and Luc are here,” she said again, quietly. “You’re <em>here, </em>but I…I’m talking about my friends, I shouldn’t be saying those things, should I? I…should focus on <em>you </em>two—”</p><p>“Hey, no, Veth. Not at all.”</p><p>“But it <em>is</em> unfair,” she sighed. “I…sweetie, I’m <em>so </em>happy to see you, and the boy, but now that…Caleb’s gone, and the two of you have moved in, a…a part of me, an <em>awful </em>part of me, already misses—”</p><p>“Veth, it’s <em>okay</em>—"</p><p>“It’s not, I mean we’re <em>married</em>—gods, wait, I’d <em>never </em>betray—”</p><p>“Veth.”</p><p>A hand touched her shoulder. Yeza’s voice was low and soft. “Honey, it’s okay. It really <em>is </em>okay, and I…I know. It’s complicated. I know. We haven’t been a family for a while—and <em>none </em>of that is your fault, it just <em>isn’t.</em> It’s just…been a tough few years, for us, but also especially for you. I doubt I could’ve survived what you’ve been through, after all. And things have changed—<em>I’ve </em>changed, I mean—I snore again, and I’ve gotten used to Edith helping around our house, and…I guess what I’m trying to say, is that it’s only natural…it’s only <em>fair, </em>that you’re allowed to change too. It’s <em>okay</em>. We talked about this, right?”</p><p>“Right,” Nott murmured.</p><p>“So it’ll be okay. We’ll make it work. And it’s still you, right? You still love me, right?”</p><p>She felt herself nod. Then, gently, “I didn’t <em>stop </em>loving you.”</p><p>“Well, that’s good. Neither did I.”</p><p>This time, she risked a glance up, and saw his smile. Yeza’s smiles were always a little lop-sided, smushing his freckles, and crinkling one eye. She’d made fun of that when they were younger, and let go of a breath when she saw that hadn’t changed.</p><p>As she exhaled, she gave a nod. Then a chuckle.</p><p>“Right. Right. Of course we will. We’re…probably going to have to enroll Luc in school. It—it’s summer now, but when autumn swings around…what is he? In first grade? In second?”</p><p>Yeza laughed. “This fall will be his first year of school.” Then his eyes widened. “Oh, <em>gods, </em>it’s his <em>first</em> year of school. He…I don’t even know if he’s ready, if he’s…wait, is it different in Nicodranas? Are there tests? Is this a good school district, I—I didn’t even <em>check</em>—”</p><p>This time, it was Veth who stopped him. “Relax,” she said, and poked Yeza’s nose. “His dad is the most brilliant chemist in the world. We can look up all that other stuff.”</p><p>She brushed his cheek with her other thumb. “Like you said. We’ve got this. We’ll make it work.”</p><p>— — —</p><p>It had started with a recipe for blueberry muffins.</p><p>It had ended, more or less, somewhere around the time that Caleb realized neither he nor Essek owned measuring cups—and anyway, the blueberries were looking a little mushy so maybe he should wait until <em>next </em>week to surprise the Brenattos, that way he’d have a chance to get better ones, even though their move-in day was technically today—</p><p>And at that point, Frumpkin had jumped into the cabinet, dislodging what sounded like years’ worth of unused pots, knocking down an avalanche of dusty pans.</p><p>The last skillet clanged like thunder as it spun to a stop on the floor.</p><p>“<em>Mist</em>. Frumpkin—”</p><p>Ever the cat, Frumpkin deftly wove out of Caleb’s grasp and darted for the counter. He perched himself unblinking at the edge of the sink and licked his paw, as if for emphasis.</p><p>Caleb sighed. He crouched down to reach for the nearest displaced kitchen implement, a stock pot.</p><p>“You know,” he began, exasperated, “you <em>could </em>at least help me out with this mess.”</p><p>“Is that so?”</p><p>He whipped around so quickly that his head hit the handle of a drawer. One hand flew up, he startled, “Miste—<em>Essek</em>?”</p><p>His landlord raised a curved eyebrow. With the mid-afternoon light streaming in through the windows, the purplish tint to Essek’s complexion was something akin to a dusting of twilight. His hair was half-tousled, like it’d been mussed by something, and his hand lingered on the doorknob.</p><p>“I…my cat,” Caleb managed. “That is, er. I apologize. Deeply. For the commotion.”</p><p>Essek looked him over. “I thought we had agreed on silence last night, no?”</p><p>Caleb hung his head, and he could feel disappointment coming, undoubtedly with despair on its coattails.</p><p>“I have broken the terms,” he said mutely. “I…I am sorry. I understand what that means.”</p><p>His gaze clung to the polished floor. Which was why he missed it when the heavy stock pot took on a faint, shimmering, blueish glow. And then the saucepan began to shine. And then a wok, a spatula, a bowl—</p><p>All of the fallen cookware slowly began to rise through the air. As they moved, a parade past Caleb’s amazed expression, slipping by Frumpkin’s outstretched paw, each individual pot righted itself, formed into lines, then were quickly and neatly whisked away into the cabinet above.</p><p>The doors <em>clicked </em>as they shut.</p><p>“I…but that—what <em>spell </em>was that?”</p><p>Mentally, Caleb kicked himself. He should’ve apologized.</p><p>But Essek only chuckled. “Oh, that was just a parlor trick. An idle curiosity about the…shall we say, limits of gravity. Particularly regarding how easy they are to break.”</p><p>Caleb scrambled up to his feet. “But I have never seen control like that on such a <em>grand </em>scale before. Your spell, it—Telekinesis only controls one object at once.”</p><p>“Well,” Essek allowed himself a smirk. “Telekinesis is a watered-down version of what <em>true </em>dunamancy can accomplish. I will say, even getting that far was impressive. I have seen your documentation.”</p><p>“Gods,” though, Caleb noticed, there was not a trace of resentment in his tone. “Here I thought our transmutative literature was the most advanced there was.”</p><p>Essek shrugged. “Please, do not misunderstand me. It <em>is </em>good, for Empire wizards, especially. Until then, I had been under the impression that your lot only excelled at evocation.”</p><p>“We are a dab hand at necromancy too,” Caleb said dryly, “if the stories from twenty years ago are believed.”</p><p>This actually won a laugh. “Maybe I am the one being too cruel. It was your people who pioneered the earliest manipulations of air elemental magic, no? It is truly an interesting method for conquering gravity.”</p><p>“Yours is better,” Caleb said, before he could stop himself. “If you think <em>that </em>a parlor trick, my friend, I hesitate to ask else you could accomplish.”</p><p>“Why hesitate?”</p><p>And then, Caleb blinked. Somewhere in the distance, Frumpkin nudged his shoulder, but in that moment, all he could focus on was Essek.</p><p>“I…excuse me?”</p><p>And with that, the spell was broken. Essek slid into a kitchen chair.</p><p>“Nevermind, nevermind,” he waved his hand. “And please. Do not worry about that mess. I am not so unreasonable to think that accidents can <em>never </em>happen. Just, ah…you have been a wonderful roommate so far. In the future…?”</p><p>“You have my word,” Caleb said. He slipped the carton of slightly-mushy blueberries behind him.</p><p>“Excellent,” Essek nodded. “Well. If that is settled, I might sit here and, ah…get some work done?”</p><p>Caleb, dense as he was, got the message. “I just—of course, I will be gone in a moment, I’ll just put these things away—”</p><p>“No rush at all. I am not in any hurry.”</p><p>And indeed, whether or not Essek was just being polite, it did seem like the man was…a bit distracted. Caleb had no right to poke into his business, which was a violation of Section II, Subsection IV anyway, but he couldn’t help but ask Frumpkin to take the <em>tiniest </em>peek at Essek’s face.</p><p>Something was bothering his landlord. And for once, still basking in the afterglow of powerful magic, Caleb was almost sure it wasn’t him.</p><p>He found out just as he was heading to his room.</p><p>“Might I, ah, ask you a question?”</p><p>Caleb had enough composure to turn around at a normal person’s pace.</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>Essek ran a hand through his hair. “Actually, it…it is more of a favor.”</p><p>“Oh,” said Caleb. And when more was required, “Yes?”</p><p>“Yes already?” Essek blinked. “But I did not say what it was.”</p><p>“I meant,” Caleb amended, leaning against his doorframe, “please describe this favor to me.”</p><p>“Ah,” said Essek. “Right. I, er…”</p><p>How in the gods’ names was he supposed to phrase something ridiculous as <em>this</em>?</p><p>“I wonder…” he tried, “that is…if you might…would it be…are you perhaps…are you busy this weekend?”</p><p>Whatever Caleb was expecting, this absolutely was not it.</p><p>“I—no?” he said, out of pure shock. Then he shook his head and added, “I do not think so, no.”</p><p>“Ah,” said Essek. Somehow he seemed even more uncomfortable now. “That is…excellent.” It did not sound excellent. “If…well, if that is the case, then…do you think you could…help me with something?”</p><p>Caleb waited patiently. “With something?”</p><p>“A date.”</p><p>“A <em>what</em>?”</p><p>“No—not—oh, gods, I am doing this wrong.” Essek actually put his head in his hands, and Caleb once again had to throttle his own surprise.</p><p>Then, in a move made by a part of him so bold he didn’t even know he still had it anymore, Caleb walked back into the kitchen and down across from Essek.</p><p>“I think, perhaps you should start from the beginning.”</p><p>Essek nodded. He breathed in miserably.</p><p>“You are right.”</p><p>He breathed out.</p><p>“So. It’s, ah, it's like this…”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you guys so much for reading, and thank you so much for your patience between chapters! Getting back into the swing of college, on top of a billion other things has been a little chaotic, but your readership and lovely comments have really helped to keep me going &lt;333</p><p>As always, you can find me as @sockablock on <a href="https://sockablock.tumblr.com">tumblr</a> or <a href="https://twitter.com/sockablock">twitter</a>, where I post a bunch of smaller drabbles and ficlets between updates!</p><p>I love you all, and I can't wait for next time :3</p><p>EDIT: can you guys believe I forgot that Nugget was the dog and not Sprinkle? It's truly been so long since we saw him RIP</p>
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